


Goodnight Amane

by disheveleddarkness



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Abduction, F/M, Necrophilia, Rape, Schizophrenic Marik, Sibling Incest, Smut, dead dove do not eat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:01:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23959603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disheveleddarkness/pseuds/disheveleddarkness
Summary: In this verse Amane did not die before the manga events. This is set before Battle City. Amane x Ryou smut then she meets Marik who does what he does best: going insane. Read this if you crave Yami Marik depravity and weirdness.
Relationships: Bakura Amane/Bakura Ryou, Bakura Amane/Marik Ishtar
Kudos: 5





	Goodnight Amane

**Author's Note:**

> You were warned by the tags, so don’t complain. Thanks!

“And what brings you to Egypt, Amane?” Namu asked, smiling politely to the morose girl sitting in the hotel lobby. The white curls spilling over delicate shoulders were a sudden contrast to the black and purple lolita dress. He raked his gaze over the tights as she explained the situation: her older brother and she had come here for the summer because their archaeologist father had found Ryou an internship that could count toward college credit. Marik lost interest in the details, instead brandishing the Millennium Rod to rifle through her mind. 

Amane knew the way girls always looked at Ryou. Why wouldn’t they? He was beautiful, incredibly intelligent, sweet, creative… It scared her. It scared her to know he could have any girl he wanted. This fear of losing him haunted her every moment, even now as she lay with him, shoulder blades pressing closer against his chest as he stroked over damp, pink panties adorned in bows.

Ryou pressed soft kisses to her neck as she grinded into his hand. She’d sucked him off earlier, yet she could feel against her thigh how hard again he was by now. Amane shifted away from his touch instead of into it, pressing to his cock, trying to reach to slip his boxers off…

Ryou grabbed her wrist in his open hand. “Amane…”

“Please? Why?” The desperation was apparent with every beat of her heart pulsing against his fingertips. “I want you inside me, Ryou, please!”

Two fingers pressed into her, taking her breath away, but it wasn’t what she meant. She whined, hips rocking, but pleaded, “Take me!” Amane broke away from his hold to turn onto her other side to face him, hooking a leg over his waist and--  
Ryou shifted to hover over her. “You know it’s not that I don’t want to.” he said gently. Their lips met in a deep kiss, and Amane moaned into his mouth.

She grabbed one of his hands, bringing it to her breast as he broke the kiss to remind her, “I love you.”

“R-Ryou, I want it so badly… that it hurts… it literally hurts. Please...“

“When you’re fifteen, I promise.”

She was wearing him down; the last time she had been unable to keep herself from begging for it, the promise had been sixteen.

She was terrified Ryou would have someone else by then, while she knew she would never be able to care about another boy. “I love you now, and I’ll love you then! What does it matter? I want you now!” This poor girl was near tears. Maybe she could never be enough for him. “No one will ever… love you as much as I do…”

Well, that was harsh. But effective. Brown eyes locked onto emerald his hand landed at her thigh, knuckles teasing over fabric against before pushing the panties aside, and as his lips brushed over hers she finally felt him pressing into that wet warmth. He was so careful with her, each movement gently restrained as he slowly filled her.

For a moment crimson leached into his eyes. It was gone as quickly as it appeared, and Ryou looked suddenly troubled.

“Ryou?” 

“It’s nothing… Are you okay?” he asked.

“Does… Does /he/ want me?”

“Don’t worry about him, I won’t let him hurt you.” Ryou said between kisses.

Marik now looked to Amane with greater lust. The recent memory he’d accessed didn’t answer why this dark energy was presently surrounding Amane, yet… he was entirely intrigued. The taboo was as delicious as the shadows working to consume her. Marik smirked, nodding to whatever she was saying, as his attention remained instead on the way she had with such beautiful devotion taken her brother’s cock.

Then he found another interesting memory…

She was frightened by the thought of Ryou out with his newfound friends; however, so was he. “I know I’m too much of a danger to everyone…” he said quietly, touching the Ring. “I shouldn’t put anymore people in danger, but… maybe it won’t happen. Maybe…”

Amane had already been gathering information to pass onto the Spirit, but she couldn’t keep this up anymore. She didn’t want to be like this, but she wanted Ryou to herself. She didn’t WANT him to have other friends, but Ryou was hurting! And so she wept, holding onto him and getting out between breaths, “It’s… It’s my fault… I’ve been… Helping him this… whole time… I’m sorry! I’m sorry… I’m sorry… I’m sorry... “ As she cried harder, he held her closer. 

“It’s okay,” he whispered, “I love you, and we’re going to get help.” This had come as a terrible shock to him, but he pressed more kisses into her hair as she sobbed at her wickedness.

Returning his attention to the present, Marik stopped her speaking with complete ease. She sat still, mindless now under his influence as he touched her face. “You look like a doll… You’d make a good one, wouldn’t you?” His own darkness was surfacing the longer he was close to her. These shadows… They were slowly killing her. She had given her soul over to the darkness out of that desperation to have her brother to herself, and nothing could turn Marik on more. “I’ll take care of you.” he said huskily. “And when the darkness ends your dirty little life, your corpse will make a lovely doll for me.”

When Amane’s awareness returned, she had no idea where she was our how she had gotten there. She opened her eyes to darkness and found herself well bound as she failed to move her wrists, nor could she sit up. The last thing she remembered was Namu’s kind smile.

“N-Namu!” she screamed out.

“Shh, I’m here sweetheart...” he said, voice lower than she could remember it being. She felt his tongue on her cheek and screamed, turning her face away as the man veiled in darkness chuckled.

“What— what is this! Please... l-let me go, my father has money—“

“I don’t need money. But keep begging if you like. It turns me on...” Marik drew a horrified cry from her as he slipped an arm under her dress. “You’re bleeding... perfect.” Her fear saturated the air as he pressed fingertips into her. He then brought them to her lips, and he whispered, “I can take whatever I want. You’ll have freedom only so long as you obey me.”

What the hell did that mean? But then he explained himself by taking the Millennium Rod into the other hand. It shone gold, illuminating this terrifying man and an empty, stale tomb. She retained her awareness— yet was powerless to stop herself from parting soft lips and tasting her blood on his skin. 

He repeated the action, although now he covered much more of his hand in it and took a moment to lick it off. 

She couldn’t scream. She couldn’t speak or have any control as she spread her thighs.

Then the enchantment ended and she brought her legs together. 

“You’re delicious.” Marik sighed in delight, languidly caressing her thigh as tears slipped down her face.

“Why are you... doing this?” Her voice cracked with terror.

“Because I can.” Oh, that rush of power he felt when she choked on a sob... “Because it feels so good to be in control. And you, my dear, will never see the light of day again. You’re all mine now, and no one will ever find you. Your fear thrills me more than you can ever imagine!”

He unsheathed the Rod and grinned as her breath hitched in panic. “Here’s some more motivation for you to be a good girl for me,” he said, making sure she got a good look at the weapon before he shallowly cut across her breast. As blood filled the incision he set the Rod aside, and the light faded away.

Now that pain was in the equation, she openly wept while he mounted her, smearing blood down her chest with one hand and the other untied the restraints that kept her wrists overhead and shoulders down. With the Rod out of his way yet well enough in reach, there was no way she could escape him, and he expected she would cooperate to keep him from shoving a knife up her vagina.

Although now they lay in this cold darkness, she closed her eyes as he sucked at the incision and collected more blood onto a hand between her legs.

He stroked that hand through her hair, eager to stain it red. He continued to taunt her, “I know everything about what you’ve done with your brother. I know he’ll be devastated you went missing... that you were never found... He’ll know in his heart you’re dead. That he failed to protect you... Does he know you’re dying? That the darkness has blackened your heart and permeates your blood? It’s too late for you... But we’ll make the most of the time you have left. Your soul will meet eternal solitude, but you’re just dying to be bred in the shadows...”

Marik left her, but only to go settle between her thighs to further indulge in tasting blood as he listened to her cry in shame.

And then without a word, he left. What a relief— she didn’t know why he hadn’t fully raped her, but she thanked every god she could name. Although she couldn’t see anything in the complete darkness, he was gone for now.

She had no way of knowing how long now would become. Over the hours she was trapped here... she never heard anything beyond the walls, and the horror of THAT left her weeping at the immovable door and begging for help that never came.

More time passed, and she had nothing to do but reflect on her demise. She was never leaving. She would starve to death, and no one would ever know.

And then Marik returned, lighting a wall sconce that shocked her eyes into unexpected pain. “N-Namu...”

“It’s Marik, actually.”

“Please, I’m so hungry— how many long has it been?”

“I’m afraid you haven’t done anything to earn any food.” Marik said, door locked behind him. He made his way to the bed— and the enchantment fell over Amane again. She found herself approaching him, settling onto his lap and throwing her arms around his neck, leaning in for a kiss.

He slipped his tongue over hers before he parted to speak again, “Soon you’ll be doing this on your own, when I have you trained as my perfect slave. My sweet doll... Now ride my cock, baby.”

She couldn’t stop herself from sinking onto him once he freed it, the stretch burning as he guided her down. Tears blurred her vision as she met his gaze. 

“I know you want this.” Marik laid back, pulling her down with him. He rolled her hips against hers, grasping her thighs viciously. “You know it too... You’re so wet for me, Amane.” He flipped them over, too impatient for this— he drove into her deeper, harder.

When he came inside her, he brought a hand to her throat, compressing arteries to slow blood flow until she passed out under him.

She didn’t wake to darkness, but she did wake to solitude. She lay in bed, accepting her fated death. It couldn’t arrive soon enough, and only when the isolation brought her to a new level of despair did Marik show up to use her again. She was quiet, but halfway through she began to somewhat participate by wrapping her legs around him and finally looking at him again as he murmured nonsense about how tight she was and how he couldn’t wait to impregnate her, wondering if he could before the darkness killed her.

She was exhausted, and had come to fear the solitude more than she feared him. 

“M-Marik... Master, please... don’t go.” 

Her plea gave him pause. He had been on his way out but then slowly turned to stare at her.

Excellent. He’d truly broken her now. 

“I’ll be good, anything you want, please, let me out!” she begged tearfully, rising from the bed to approach him, reaching to take both of his hands into hers.

“I can’t, sweetheart. This tomb is yours— forever.” Marik grinned.

“You’re insane! I’m dying because you’re killing me— not because of some magic! Help me, please! Help me!”

He kissed her before he left. Their next encounters were perfectly vigorous, as if she thought if she pleased him well enough he might pity her and spare her life. She eventually gave up any notion of the sort when, laying with him after he’d filled her with more semen, he whispered everything he was going to do to her following her death.

“You’ll serve me then too, of course. You’ll still be perfectly beautiful under me, and I can dress you up. I promise I’ll take good care of my princess.”

Then she heard another voice for the first in a very long time, calling out her name.

Marik sneered, dressing and departing. Amane tried to go sit at the door and listen, but she crumbled after a few steps, vision whiting out for a moment. She was too weak, too close to death. “H-help me! Please! Please...”

Beyond the door, Marik grinned as his gaze landed on the Millennium Ring. “I had a feeling I’d meet you sooner or later.” Marik remarked. 

“And who the hell are you?”

“My name is Marik.”

“I don’t care.”

But when Marik brought Bakura’s attention to the Rod, he did indeed care.

“You’ll need me to ever destroy the pharaoh...” Marik stated. “But your host’s sister is mine now.”

“Hm... Alright. I won’t tell Ryou if you won’t. But... Why not share her?”

Marik smirked. “Just this once.”

Once again inside, Marik laughed as Amane scrambled away from him, calling out to Ryou.

“Ryou isn’t available at the moment!” Marik told her. “He won’t have any knowledge of this! Now come out and play.” He grabbed her arm, pulling her along into the corridor where Bakura was immediately upon her. Her knees hit the ground hard, and in an instant he was slamming into her from behind with all the need and aggression that had accumulated over three thousand years. 

Bakura moaned in absolute bliss as her struggle forced her to tighten painfully around him. He held her in place and watched as Marik knelt in front of her, guiding his cock into her mouth as Bakura kept his thrusts relentless and powerful.

Bakura and Marik leaned across her to meet for a grinning kiss. 

After she collapsed and they reached their release, Amane passed out. When she later awoke in bed, Marik was there, only... his hair had calmed down and he was... weeping? That couldn’t be right. What... what was happening?

“Mar... Marik?” she asked weakly. “What...”

It hurt to look at her. At the blood and semen in her hair, the tears in her dress, the looming death in her once bright eyes. “I’m... sorry... I’m so sorry...” But no amount of clarity or regret could help her now.

She didn’t understand what she was hearing or why he was reaching to touch her hand. His free hand offered her a vial she took into hers curiously.

“This will kill you. If you want to get it over with.” Marik explained forlornly. For a long moment silence hung between them... and she squeezed his hand.

He was so different now. There had been something deeply, disturbingly wrong about him before.

“T-take it before...”

Before what? she wondered. 

He lowered his head, praying against this headache. He couldn’t fight it for long.

“Help me?” she begged under her breath.

“I AM helping you, don’t you understand?!”

Fresh tears filled her eyes, and he quickly apologized for raising his voice.

“I’m sorry... I’m sorry...” And he lay down to hold her. He didn’t deserve any forgiveness, but maybe he could provide some kind of comfort to her. He whispered, “End it, Amane.”

His plea sunk into her heart. She didn’t need the threat of the Rod now to know to obey him. She took the poison in one drink, tears slipping down her face. For once his words brought comfort: “Don’t be afraid. You don’t have to be afraid anymore. You’ll be safe in death.”

The Rod... It had the same theme going on as the Ring. Had Marik been possessed by an evil spirit too? she wondered but didn’t have the energy to ask. With the way he was lovingly holding her... he had to have been, right?

He was softly speaking in another language now, whispering prayers over her. She laid her head on his chest, grateful for his kind touch. Everything felt... slower, and his voice farther away. She lifted a hand to his face, catching his tears and smiling gently to him. She wasn’t afraid. 

What a beautiful doll she’ll make, he thought as he took in the sight of that faint smile.

“Goodnight, Amane.”

She couldn’t reply, gaze softened and heart slowing. It was harder to stay awake, and Marik encouraged her to sleep. Don’t fight it. Relax into it. I’ve got you. It won’t hurt. Oh, Netjer, protect her. Guide her. Dua Yinepu, dua Wesir.

Marik kept true to his promises— she would never leave this place. She belonged to him, preserved in lace and bows, makeup applied to create an illusion of soft life. The more he fucked her the harder it was to keep her clean, but how could he resist those green eyes, those white lips, those smooth thighs? 

“I love you,” he whispered within his delusioned passion, showering her in kisses, working his cock into her. He would repent for his cruelty, by loving her properly, by devoting himself to this worship of her perfect corpse. 

He knew she loved him too. She had to. Of course she did. He was tending to her. He’d prepared her and he took care of her, so why wouldn’t she love him?

Sometimes he fell asleep here and woke into one of those dreams that cannot be easily distinguished from reality.

The dreamscape was no different from the tomb, but here Amane returned his kisses, pulled him closer, spread her thighs as far as she could in a show of eager submission. But she never blinked. She never breathed. She was silent.

“Please tell me... tell me you love me...” Marik begged, cupping her face in his hands. Spiders skittered over them.

He woke to that same silence, and in his madness he considered setting her on fire. Let her burn. Let her burn. Let her burn.

I love you.

His heart jumped when he heard her voice; his cock twitched; his breath stilled; his eyes widened. Guilt struck him over his wicked thoughts, and he apologized, grasping her hand and trembling. He didn’t want to hurt her.

How could he have thought about destroying her like that? After he’d already put her through so much pain. 

Pain...

The scars on his back felt as though they were reopening as the pain flared. A spasm left him breathless, shifting to lay on his stomach.

“MARIK.”

He flinched, pushing himself up to glance around... Nothing. It was nothing. It sounded like his dad, but it couldn’t be.

“You... are WEAK. Pathetic.”

He shivered, lowering down, crossing his arms and bringing his forehead to them. 

“MARIK.”

He unfolded his arms to cover his ears with his hands, but this couldn’t help an auditory hallucination. Neither could his mutterings, “Stop, stop, stop, no...” 

“You’re sick!” He heard, so much closer. He couldn’t escape him. “Look what you’ve done to her, Marik! Still you disrespect her; you know the cost!”

Yes yes yes I know I know I know I am doomed. Go away go away go away! Let me be devoured by Ammit in peace! I want to be gone. I’ll destroy the pharaoh first, I have to, I WILL then let me be gone. 

Marik wept, the burden of existence breaking his heart as he hoped no part of his soul would survive his judgment one day. 

He was sorry, so sorry about that girl. He just wanted to protect her now. To love her. To have something... special... and secret... that was only his...

Why was it okay what you did to me... but it’s not okay what I’ve done to her... he wondered wearily. I’m not hurting her, not now... I’m keeping her. You can’t stop me.

When the pain searing his back calmed enough to sit up, he returned his attention to sweet Amane, smiling into her cold lips.


End file.
